Kiera Gerety

I’ve always believed in being transparent about the writing process, about how messy and sacred and infuriating it can be to carve truth out of memory, heartbreak, and prayer. So here’s a little snapshot of where I’m at right now, for those of you following along or just joining the journey.

Ink, Blood, & Prayer — Coming July 17th

This book is my heart cracked open on the page. It was written through the tail end of my last relapse and the first 90 days clean. It’s raw, painful, and unapologetically honest. It doesn’t try to dress the wound. It lets it bleed. It’s a poetry collection, yes, but also a prayer-begging the Gods to stay, to listen, to give a damn. This one is for anyone who’s ever fallen apart and still had the nerve to come back. It’s available for pre-order now and officially releases July 17th. Mark your calendars.

“December’s wreckage still clings to my ribs,
but it’s winter now,
and I am here, trying again.”

When the Noise Stops, Who Am I? — Pre-Editor Phase

This book asks the question no addict wants to face: who are we without the chaos? It’s a follow-up to Ink, Blood, & Prayer, written between 90 & 120 days clean. It’s a collection about what happens after the storm dies down, when the wreckage is quiet and you’re left sitting in the stillness. These poems aren’t gentle. They’re hungry, scared, and braver than I thought I could be. Still in the early phases, but it’s coming together piece by piece.

“For months, I fought the fucking obsession,
gripped the edges of my sanity
like I was holding back a flood.
Took them exactly as prescribed,
felt them light me up from the inside,
and told myself I was fine.
Told myself I wasn’t slipping.
Told myself I could stop.”

The Longest Walk Back to Myself — Pre-Editor Phase

This is my recovery collection. Structured around steps of recovery, but not in a Sunday school kind of way. These poems are gritty, honest, and personal—each part of my heeling journey peeled back, each admission unvarnished. There’s a crow that follows the speaker through each phase of the journey. Sometimes a guide, sometimes a warning. I’m still gathering the last of the poems, but this one already feels like a reckoning.

“He listened.
Nodded.
Held space like it was sacred.
And then—
he sent me a video
of a raccoon stealing an entire loaf of bread.”

Where the Music Finds Us — With Beta Readers

This is the first novel I’ve truly let breathe. It’s a messy, sensual, deeply human story about love, memory, and the echoes we carry. It’s set between Marseille, with flashbacks spanning Europe and the U.S.A’s northeast, and follows a cast of characters trying to heal in the spaces where music and memory meet. It’s currently with my incredible beta readers, and I’m preparing myself for their feedback—because this one matters to me in ways I’m still figuring out how to explain.

“Eli was half a step behind, face full of laughter not yet spoken. ‘Tell me you hated it,’ he said. ‘I’ll believe you if you say it with conviction.’

Liora tilted her head, lips curving. ‘I don’t lie that well.’

Bastien laughed softly, gaze dropping to her mouth just briefly before returning to her eyes. ‘We figured as much,’ he said. ‘You watched like you meant it.’”

Smoke Beneath the Pines — Writing Chapter One

This one’s fresh. I’m still in the early days of the first chapter, letting the voice settle into my bones. All I’ll say for now is this: it’s dark, it’s Appalachian, and it smells like bonfire smoke and old secrets. There’s something feral and familiar about this story already. I can’t wait to see where it takes me.

“’Laurel McCrae,’ he said, voice all Appalachia and sin. ‘I’ll be damned.’

Her throat went dry. The smile on her face faltered but didn’t quite fall. She reached for her beer and took a slow sip to buy herself a second. “It’s Merrick now.”

He raised his eyebrows, took a pull off his bottle. ‘You married that boy who knocked you up?’

‘Divorced that boy,’ she said, cool as she could manage. ‘You still drinkin’ Bud heavy?’”

Where the Violets Grew — Character Development

I’m in the character background stage for this one. Dual timelines. Queer love. Secrets buried in the past and unearthed by a new generation. It’s quiet, intimate, and aching. Building the characters from the ground up has been a slow burn, but they’re starting to speak. And once they speak, I follow.

“Mira Lenore Kettering taught English Literature and Creative Writing at Larchfield Grammar, a well-regarded but underfunded secondary school in Sussex.”

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Each of these works is in a different stage—some almost ready to fly, some still rooted deep in the soil. But every single one is a piece of me. If you’re here, reading this, thank you for walking beside me. I write because I have to. I publish because I want to connect.

More soon—
KJG